


White Shirt, Red Wine

by recurringdreams



Series: Symbiosis [1]
Category: British Actor RPF
Genre: Anniversary, DaddyBatch, F/M, Fluff, dinner date
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-05
Updated: 2015-08-05
Packaged: 2018-04-13 02:45:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4504662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/recurringdreams/pseuds/recurringdreams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>We were going to have a lovely meal tonight. That was the plan. A nice, romantic meal for two and I was going to tell him the truth, that this was what was happening, and wait for my world to come crashing down around my ears.</p><p>*</p><p>Pure, unadulterated fluff, and an unexpected pregnancy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	White Shirt, Red Wine

My fingers slipped over the buttons on my blouse and I took a slow, shaky breath as I looked in the mirror and winced. Everything looked a little sallow today, my skin a little pale and waxen, my hair a little dried out. I was thankful that for once, I wasn’t greasy or spotty from the imbalance of hormones in my body, but I knew that in the next 9 months, I was going to be wreaked havoc upon. My sides were already sore from the stretching, bending and twisting I had done to see whether or not I was showing a bump, even though I had only just skipped a period and I was unlikely to be beyond three weeks gone. I really needed to make a doctor’s appointment, but I wanted him to come. If he was still here in the morning. I swallowed again, the thoughts making my head swirl, and gave a soft gasp as my fingers slipped again, the buttons tripping just a little as I neared my belly button. We were going to have a lovely meal tonight. That was the plan. A nice, romantic meal for two and I was going to tell him the truth, that this was what was happening, and wait for my world to come crashing down around my ears.

 _Well_ , the little voice inside my head said, a little snidely, _you’ve had a good run, but it was bound to come do this_.

 _Fuck you_ , I replied with a little more gusto than intended. My head dipped forward as I tried to shake off the feeling of something dark and nasty sitting on my shoulder, and my forehead thunked on our mirror.

“Oh, mother _fucker_!” I groaned and clutched at my forehead, turning away to assess the damage. No blood, no foul, I suppose. There was a soft gasp from the bathroom and I looked up, just a little too quickly as Ben poked his head out of the loo, his smile giving way as he saw me, immediately concerned as he took in my expression. “Not you, love.” _Although, now that you mention it... I'm technically carrying his child_...

“Love?” He strode quickly through the room and took my face gently in his hands. “What happened?” The shower-damp skin of his palms cooled my skin as he ran his fingertips lightly over the bump on my forehead and frowned a little more. I hated to worry him on days like this… it wasn’t often that we got to go out on dates.

“Cracked my head on the mirror.” I leaned into his touch and gave a soft sigh. “I’m sorry.” 

"Shh, silly girl.” He pressed a kiss just to the left of the bump and smiled at me with his little, private smile. His fingertips touched the curve of my eyebrows and he chuckled. “I’ll tell the mirror off, if you like?”

“No, no. It was just doing its job. I got in the way.” He grinned at me and kissed my temple, brushing his nose along the line of my cheekbone as he pulled away. 

“What perfume are you wearing? You smell fucking delicious.”

“Hah,” I leaned back a little and looked into his eyes, “I’m not wearing any, you dirty charmer.”

“You caught me.” He smirked and pulled me just a little closer, his fingers clutching at my hips just a little tighter than usual. “You feel soft. I like it.”

“I’ve never been a size four.” I breathed, lifting up on my tiptoes to kiss him gently. He growled against my lips and let his tongue drift over my bottom lip, sucking at it and likely ruining my lipstick as he drew away and half snarled.

“What do I always tell you?” A raised eyebrow and I blushed bright red as his fingers tightened on my wrist and turned my hand up, showing off our wedding rings against one another, “This means I love every inch of you, and I always will. I don’t want a size... Whatever, and I don’t want to argue with you about your weight. You’re perfect. Squishy in the right places." He reached back to check my skirt tag, "Size twelve, Ample bosomed,” He brightened a little as I bit back a giggle and his hand dropped down to squeeze my arse, “Voluptuous arse, childbearing hips, the works.” He chuckled. “Now you sound like a fucking Mills and Boone heroine.”

“Well I am married to an actor.” _An intellectual, attractive, gentle, caring actor, Kitty. Undersell yourself, not him._

“It’s no romantic weekend with a ranch-hand at your sister’s stable though, is it?” He chuckled, nuzzling into the space behind my ear as he drew me closer and trailed kisses just under my throat.

“I don’t like cowboys.” _…I’m so fucking smooth._ “All that hay and horse-shit.”

He full on guffawed at my admittance and his hands came to rest at my jaw again, pressing another kiss to my lips as he drew back and grinned at me, eyes bright and dancing as he stroked my bottom lip with his thumb.

“That’s my wife.” He grinned almost proudly and I blushed, his fingers still brushing over my skin. We could have stood there for hours, just taking one another in and staring at each other until the night was over and our dinner reservations were over and done, but my phone buzzed with a thirty minute warning alarm, and we both jumped out of our skin at the sound.

The flurry of movement which accompanied our stepping apart would have been almost incredible had I not sat in on some of Ben’s pre-press conference primping. He moved with a grace I knew I would never be able to achieve – I fell over things and hit myself on other things with embarrassing frequency – grabbing his tie and cufflinks, slipping a comb through his unruly hair and tying his shoes within seconds. I couldn’t help but stop and stare at him as he straightened up and smiled at me.

“Ready, beautiful?” He whispered, stepping closer to me and running a hand gently through his hair. I watched his fingers flex as they slipped from his hair and back to hold his jacket in front of him, and I smiled as I realised he wanted to touch me but wasn’t quite sure where to begin.

“Just one thing to do, and then I’m set.” I couldn’t help but smile, turning to pick up the necklace that he had bought me for our three month anniversary. “Help me get this thing on?” He nodded and pressed his hand gently to the back of my neck, sweeping my hair from in the way and kissing the top of my spine as he slid the gold around my neck and fastened it. “Thank you, baby.”

“Oh shush,” He kissed the back of my neck again and settled his face next to mine, watching the pair of us in the mirror and the way our bodies melded together as I leaned back into him. “You look utterly gorgeous, my darling. And…” He smiled kindly and squeezed my hand, “You’re glowing.”

“It’s you, baby. You…” I looked away and giggled softly. “You fill me up with unimaginable light.”

“You,” He kissed my temple and gently tapped my nose, “Are a fantasist. A gorgeous, ridiculous fantasist.” He smiled at me in the mirror once again, meeting my eyes, “and I love you.”

“I love you too, silly love.” I whispered as he turned me in his arms and pressed his lips to mine, gentle and soft as his fingers brushed through the loose curls I had attempted to sweep away from my face.

“Let’s go, then? I want to show you off to the world.” He grinned and curled his arm around me again, his hand meeting mine, and squeezing firmly as he led me downstairs.

 

***

I found it hardest to refuse the wine at dinner. I always had something which was well cooked – tonight had been Bolognese and it was bloody delicious – so I didn’t have to worry about that kind of thing, but I wanted to avoid making a potentially avoidable mistake before I knew exactly what was going on in his mind, and in my own. With fingers trembling, between the main course and dessert, I reached across the table and took Ben’s big hand in my own. He watched me, most likely surprised at how forward I was being, given the lack of alcohol in my system, but smiled as I looked up and met his eyes, biting my lip as he nodded.

“You have something you want to say, my lyrical lover?” He teased kindly, pressing a kiss to my knuckles as he scooted his chair just a little closer to be heard over the soft hubbub of the restaurant we had settled ourselves in. I nodded, hesitant, as he gave me another encouraging smile and squeezed my fingers just firmly enough for me to know that it was now. Right now was ok to tell him. I leaned in and he brought his head closer too. His fingers twined mine and I couldn’t hide the excitement from my voice as I spoke, trembling from my head to toes.

“I know it’s sudden and I know we’ve not exactly meticulously planned this but I took a test on Monday, baby, and…” I bit my lip and took another shuddering breath, feeling the tears prick at my eyes as his hand tightened on mine and his shoulders stiffened almost unnoticeably. _I noticed_.

“You’re…” He tilted his head, and looked from my face, down to where I was holding our entwined hands, smiling ever so slightly as he glanced back and forth, taking in my lack of wine, and making his little Sherlockian deductions, “love, you're pregnant?”

“Y-yeah…” I swallowed suddenly, blinking frantically as the burn across my eyes intensified and my heart started to race much too fast as his other hand came to press against my cheek, his forehead dropping down the six or seven inches to meet mine.

“Fuck, Kitty.” He smiled and pursed his lips gently, touching them to my own in the gentlest of presses, “I don’t know what to say.”

I hesitated, not sure of the direction that his thoughts were trailing in, and gently drew away, looking up into his eyes and smiling as he leaned his head left and right, just watching me with more emotion in his eyes than I had ever seen. My chest tightened a little more and his thumb came to brush just under my eye. I didn’t realise I’d been crying, but there we were. 

“I’m gonna be a dad,” His voice cracked and he drew me into a kiss, his eyes big and bright and his lips spread in the biggest smile I think I had ever seen. He lit up the room, as he drew me into another kiss, then began pressing daft kisses over my cheeks like a giddy schoolchild. “How long, do you know?”

“Three weeks, maybe?” I shrugged and gave a little blush, my fingers twining more into his and clutching at his hand as he drew our hands up to his lips and he kissed my fingers, each individually. By the time he had finished, I was a wreck, trailing mascara and eyeliner down my cheeks as he pressed a napkin to my skin, attempting to get rid of the streaks just as fast as they had appeared. All of a sudden, the pair of us were laughing, leaning against one another, giddy but unable to pull ourselves apart. When he pulled back to look at me, the softest of smiles appeared on his face, like the slow spread of a sunrise flooding the land.

“Fuck me, love.” He whispered, stroking my cheek gently as a couple more tears dripped down his cheeks, and trailed off to dampen his collar. “I fucking love you.”

“I love you too, Ben. More than anything, baby. Anything at all.”

“I’m gonna order dessert to go, beautiful,” Though his gaze didn’t break from mine as he spoke, and when he ordered, he barely glanced at the waitress. “God, this is the best anniversary present I think I could have dreamed of.” He chuckled and pressed a kiss to my cheek, then pouted as he remembered the gift he had given me that morning, before running off to a radio recording, “Better than a sodding spa day.”

“I dunno, I hear those pregnancy massages are pretty damn good.”

“Oh shut up, silly love.” He grinned and kissed me gently, brushing his fingers across my cheek as he led me out of the restaurant, down the stairs and slipped his arms around my waist, smiling as he threw an arm out and hailed a black cab. I opened my mouth to argue about the price but he shook his head, kissing my forehead and brushing his fingers over the worry lines which appeared as I frowned and looked up at him. “My treat.”

“Just this once,” I whispered, gently pressing a kiss to his cheek. He hummed and nodded, and I chuckled softly, running my fingers through his hair as he pulled me into his lap on the backseat.

 

***

 

The silence in the cab had only been broken by soft whispers of _I love you_ and _Thank you_ , said over and over until my heart couldn’t take the racing, and I had to kiss him to shut him up. Even then, in every breath, tough and gentle stroke of his fingers, tugging my shirt out of the skirt it was tucked into, brushing over my stomach and trailing up my spine, I could feel him worship me. It was beyond love, and it was beyond gentle touches. It was incredible, and my heart hurt to feel it. I opened my eyes as he drew away and I considered him, sitting beside me, his arms wrapped around me with a gentle press of his fingers to my knee as he watched me, smiling broadly and stroking gently at my cheek. Since I had been with Ben, he had been soft, he had been gentle, he had been hard and rough and everything we had ever wanted to be… we were. But right now, he looked at me like I was the sun. Like he had never wanted anything more than what we had at that moment – each other and the future we had made together. My hand tightened in his hair as I leaned in and kissed him again, the taxi pulling up at the end of our road.

Throwing notes at the driver, Ben tugged me out of the back and along the road, wrapping his arms around me and duck-waddling us down the road. I couldn’t help but let out loud giggles as he kissed my temple, flapped my hair and pressed his hands to my stomach. He was so damned carefree I couldn’t help but giggle, then bounce, then giggle again as we made it to the doorstep and he drew out his keys, dropped them to the floor with his shaking hands, and eventually handed them to me to safely unlock the door. It took me a couple of goes as well, fingers trembling as I accidentally locked it again, his hands at My hips simultaneously distracting and perfect. I huffed another giggle as he pressed me up against the hallway-wall, kicking the door closed and locking it quickly, smiling at me as he hummed and started to untuck my blouse from my skirt proper.

“This is my shirt,” he mumbled, running his fingers over the cottony white material and I stroked my fingers over his cheek, nodding as I inclined my head and watched him kneel in front of me. “Don’t take this off. I like it on you.” I blushed, reaching down to stroke hands through his rowdy curls and giggled as he unbuttoned the bottom of it, pressing a kiss just below my bellybutton.

“Ben! Tickles!” He simply chuckled and carried on kissing at my skin.

“I’m saying hello to the tiny bean in your belly, beautiful.” He raised his eyes to me briefly and kissed at my skin again. His thumbs gently stroked over my hips, tugging gently at the skirt that settled at my midriff, and he hummed kindly as he left me entirely exposed from the waist down. I gave a little whine and he smiled broadly, nuzzling his face into the side of my stomach, running a hand down the back of my thighs.

“Oh, Ben,” I rolled my eyes, dropping my head back, sighing softly and stroking his hair again. He hummed softly and pressed a kiss against my hip, before straightening up and grinning up at me.

“Come on, Mrs C.” He smiled, checking that the door was locked quickly, “It might not be a spa day, but I can certainly treat you to a little cuddle.” I smiled broadly and wiggled a little closer, “And maybe a massage too, if you’re a good girl.”

"When aren't I?" I glanced up at him and he shrugged, kissing my forehead as he swept me easily into his arms. "Oh god, Ben, put me down!"

"No!" He laughed, spinning me as he stood firm on the first floor landing, "we've got to be irresponsible now, it's our anniversary and we're gonna be parents!" His happy-tears started up again and I shook my head, knowing that I was mere seconds away from bawling again. "Would you mind if..." He hesitated and stroked his finger along my shin as he set me down on the bed, looking shy as he brushed his finger over the curve of my knee. I smiled at him, anticipating his request. "Would it be ok if the sex took a backseat tonight? We've got the whole week to ourselves, but... This is really good news. And I want to celebrate by being with _you_ , not being _with_ you... If that made any fucking semblance of sense."

"It did. And of course. As long as you promise not to get weird." I winked at him and he shook his head, crawling onto the bed so that he was supporting himself over me, hands either side of my head and knees pressed into the mattress beside my own.

"I only get weird with my favourite woman." He winked and pressed another kiss to my lips, before gently flicking the shirt from my shoulders and urging me to roll onto my stomach, his lips leaving a trail of kisses down my spine.

As his fingers stroked over the curves and dips of my back, finding purchase over my shoulder blades, tracing the marks of my tattoo and drifting up and down my spine as a mark of reassurance, of promises that my husband would look after me, I felt my body start to relax, and put my arm back to reach for him. Immediately, he came, flopping down beside me with the biggest grin I'd ever seen outside of a Looney Tunes cartoon, and pulled me into his arms. He was just wearing his boxers now, having discarded the rest of his clothes before climbing onto the bed with some lotion, and I loved the feel of his skin on mine, slightly cooler, but definitely better scented, scruff tickling my shoulder as he pulled me up close, moving me so that we were spooning, his hand gently fanning out over my belly.

"Mummy will keep you safe, little bean," he hummed softly, into my ear as my eyes started to close. "And daddy promises that he'll keep mummy safe too." He kissed my temple, "what colour nursery, my pretty Mrs. C?" He whispered softly as he brushed another kiss against my hair. "I'll get some tins after we make love in the morning." I shook my head at his daft nature, and he laughed softly, pulling me in tighter as he nuzzled my jaw.

"Love you, idiot." I murmured softly, feeling sleep wash over me like a familiar, if mildly annoying blanket, "we'll decide in the morning." I felt him open his mouth against my ear and chuckled, "yes, handsome. Sex first."

"How do you always know?" He mumbled under his breath, "bloody psychic angel."


End file.
